


With a Big Iron on Her Hip

by stiction



Series: Summer Heat 2020 [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Pegging, Size Difference, Strap-Ons, the feedback-capable dildo of the future: now!, truly terrible dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24972514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiction/pseuds/stiction
Summary: “I’m serious.” Nickel’s head popped out from behind the washrack door. “If you laugh, I’m gonna wire your safety systems to your power down modulator so that every time you try to recharge your horn goes off and wakes you up.”Roller did his best not to smile. “I’m not going to laugh. Promise. I might beg, though.”
Relationships: Nickel/Roller (Transformers)
Series: Summer Heat 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803259
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	With a Big Iron on Her Hip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ros3bud009](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ros3bud009/gifts).



> written for the square 'strap-ons' with nickel and roller, put in by rosey! 
> 
> come check out my board and put in bingo prompts [@schemingallday](https://twitter.com/schemingallday/status/1275841531245715457?s=20) on twitter!

“You can’t laugh.”

“I’m not going to laugh.”

“I’m serious.” Nickel’s head popped out from behind the washrack door. “If you laugh, I’m gonna wire your safety systems to your power down modulator so that every time you try to recharge your horn goes off and wakes you up.”

Roller did his best not to smile. “I’m not going to laugh. Promise. I might beg, though.”

He could feel the jump of interest in Nickel’s field from across the room. He could definitely work with that. It was hard not to beg Nickel at the best of times, but especially when he was already so charged up from the anticipation that even the cables in his legs were hot. 

Nickel disappeared back into the washracks and Roller slid a hand down over his valve, rubbing with the flats of his fingers. Barely gathering any charge, just… being patient. Hard to be patient after he’d spent half the day lying around kissing in the berth. Nickel had the best little hands, medic hands to boot, that fit so nicely between his plating. He’d never met a mech from Prion before, and it’d be far from tactful to ask her if everyone from her colony had such smooth armor, but Roller was easily lost in touching each neat plane. Nickel was _covered_ in tiny dials and switches and pieces of fussy medical equipment. 

Roller let his knees fall open and pushed a finger into his valve. 

It probably wasn’t too egotistical to think that Nickel was a fan of his frame too, given how often she snapped something about his “stupid-wide shoulders” or his “ridiculously warm engine core” and clambered onto his chest, pushing her wheels into his hands and plugging into his chassis port. 

Primus, he’d gotten double lucky in the last quartex, what with the whole not being dead anymore thing on top of catching Nickel’s optic. 

“Alright, here goes.”

Roller stroked his thumb over his node, nice and slow, and waited. 

And… waited some more. 

“Nickel? You alive in there?”

He could hear her shuffling around, but it wasn’t until he heard her sigh that a thread of genuine concern wormed its way to the front of his processor. 

“Can you just… shutter your optics or something?”

“The whole time?”

“Just for a minute.” 

Roller paused. By now he had gotten used to Nickel shouting, swearing, and deploying nuclear-grade rude gestures at him, all with incredibly low levels of seriousness. Even after the whole sordid leadup to the war, Nickel had an impressive ratio of bark to bite severity. But nervous? Nickel? Nervous? 

He fed it to his logistical cortex for the pit of it, and it spat back a predictably null set. Did not compute. 

Ah, it wouldn’t hurt anything.

“Optics going off,” he said, and settled back against the berth padding so he could adjust to the sudden darkness. 

Nickel muttered something that included the word ‘ridiculous’. The door to the washrack slid all the way open with a little snick, and Roller listened to the buzz of Nickel’s wheels on the floor of his hab. It sounded louder than normal since he’d had to lower the berth to base level earlier. She stopped somewhere near the end of his berth and Roller remembered then that his valve was open and wet and very much full of his fingers.

A high-pitched hum started up. It took Roller a nanoklik to realize it was Nickel’s fans. 

She whistled quietly, and suddenly Roller could feel her, close enough for her field to tingle on his armor. “Got yourself a little worked up, huh, big guy?”

“Yeah,” Roller said. A single point of pressure registered on the inside of his left leg. His frame had gone tight all over. “Can I, uh. Can I look now?”

Nickel’s finger paused. “Gimme another minute.”

Another minute sounded like torture. Roller lifted one hand, reaching where he thought her pauldron might be. He heard Nickel’s soft noise before he felt more of her field register on his frame. She nudged his other wrist away, leaving him empty, but as she leaned in to wrap her hand around one of his fingers, something firm pressed against the rim of his valve. 

His vocalizer stuttered on a moan, and Nickel paused. Roller managed to fumble his hand around hers, squeezing it just a bit, just enough to feel the vibration of her snicker. 

“Yeah, I guess you can look now,” she said. 

Roller onlined one optic first. The other went on without prompting. 

Nickel was standing between his legs, a false spike strapped to her hips that was easily as big around as one of her thighs. She’d actually gone and done it, he thought, crazy, determined, incredible little thing that she was. He could see why she’d felt self-conscious, logically, but his processor had given up on parsing anything logically and instead had tangled up most of its computing power in a string of [nickel-nickel?-nickel with a big spike? excellent.] 

Which was probably why the next thing out of his mouth was: “You got a license for that?” 

Nickel opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again, smiling. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t? Arrest me?”

The hot flush of energon through his lines left Roller’s helm feeling light. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Your, uh, your intentions. With that weapon.” Oh, he sounded stupid. He _felt_ stupid. He’d had Nickel’s entire arm up to the elbow in his valve last decaorn, with less catastrophic brain module failure.

Nickel grinned. His hand was let go of, and he managed to hold himself on his elbows at the rub and catch of the spike over his array. 

“Well, you see, I’m a medic,” Nickel said with only the slightest hitch in her vocalizer. “And you seem to have a pretty serious leak going on down here.”

“Oh,” Roller said. If he sat up just a little more and craned his neck, he could watch the length of the spike grind between the folds of his valve. Whoever had made it had added ridges on each segment that pressed at his node as they passed and dragged as Nickel withdrew. Nickel might’ve actually made it, he thought, and Primus, that was somehow even better, the thought of her hard at work with a soldering iron and some frame-quality sheet metals. “Is it fixable?”

Nickel shrugged. “Gonna have to see.” Her hands stroked the t-seams in his thighs, pulled just a little bit at the wiring in his stretched hip joints and played with his hydraulics. “But for now, I can at least plug it up until you can get it checked out.”

“So it’s not a weapon, then? It’s a medical instrument?” Roller stifled a laugh that quickly spilled over into another groan as Nickel ground into him. 

“It’s a pun,” Nickel said, and then scooted back until it was the tip of her spike rubbing against his node. 

A quick cross-reference led Roller to an entry in a human slang dictionary. “Alright,” he said, chuckling. “You gonna plug me, then? Make sure I don’t go dry?”

“It’s the right thing to do.” Her solemn tone hardly matched her smile or the way she stroked the length of her spike. Her handspan didn’t even get halfway around the damn thing. God, she was perfect. 

“Can’t believe you actually had it made this big.” Roller’s vents seized as she pushed in, the head of her spike spreading him wide. His legs hitched up automatically, as if his frame thought it had to accommodate a more proportional bot. As it was, Nickel just filled the space between his inner hip joints. Her weight barely tugged at his thighs when she drew out and rocked back in. 

“Wait, wait—did you lock your wheels?”

Nickel stared at him, face flushed. He heard the quiet thunk of a stopper engaging. “Of course I did.”

“Oh,” Roller said. “Good.”

The stretch felt even better with the knowledge that Nickel wasn’t about to slip and faceplant into his valve, but that could’ve just been the thrust of her spike deeper than he’d had anything in vorns. The last time was probably… probably outside of his storage retrieval capabilities at the moment. Roller was busy focusing on the sudden cool touch of Nickel’s frame on his node. 

“Primus,” he mumbled. His valve flexed instinctively around all that warm metal and the ridges on the spike ground into his interior sensornet, throwing an extra round of charge into his systems. Huh. It’d been a long, long while since he’d seen a toy that could do that. “You in?”

“Yeah.” The faint rattle he was hearing finally narrowed into the tremble of Nickel’s hands on him. He reached for her again and was surprised by the heat of her frame. She gave him another shaky smile. “Bad time to tell you this thing’s wired into my sensornet?”

Roller stared down at her. “You’re serious?”

“As a spark seizure.”

This time the purposeful clench of his valve was rewarded by a string of arcane swearing and a near-searing uptick in Nickel’s frame heat. The kickback of charge from her spike to his valve surged through Roller’s frame as well, his armor snapping further open to dump the temperature hike. 

“Nickel,” Roller sighed. “You’re amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> nickel comms misfire from the washracks for advice and encouragement and he goes bananas during a scavs mission like [that one bit in broad city](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5uI_-mnojs)


End file.
